The last henry whitman
by Silveroak
Summary: Follow the final moments of Sean Silvers. A man who knows he will die, but can the memory of John Connor help his fate?


As the author of this piece of Fan Fiction, I do not take claim to owning characters from the Terminator series. I would also like to inform the reader and moderator of fanfiction.net that if I have made a mistake posting this story then I would like to apologise. Ideally, please inform me of my mistake and I will not do it again.  
  
This story is rated PG-13. Although it may not contain bad language or extreme graphic violence, it is still a piece of work designed for an adult audience.  
  
Please enjoy  
  
Martin  
  
The Last Henry Whitman (The last few steps of Private Silvers)  
  
I ventured out past the burnt out car, holding my gun in one hand as I brushed past the quiet wasteland dressed only in my uniform. Creeping so softly, but yet fast to avoid making noise. I fell low and landed on my backside. My helmet lowered below my eyes and I lifted it up so I could see again. I then peered around the edge of the car and looked into the darkness, hoping that I was safe. Nothing could be seen except for a Hunter ship flying somewhere in the distance. It had been the ship that had dropped off the army of 101's. They had swept through my army and now I had been the last left. Not only that, but they had now chased me through the open wasteland trying to hunt me down. Knowing that I was a man whom had a piece of information bound for John Connor. I had not seen one in the last twenty minutes, and this gave way to my own theory that they were allowing me to escape to find Connor. I took out a metal cylinder. It must have been at least fifty years old and had the words Henry Whitman printed over the sides. Connor had given me this object, on the understanding if I was ever to die, then I would open it up. Take the brown soft thing inside and set alight to one side while breathing in from the other while it being attached to my mouth. He had taught me a lot about the world that was before. Before Judgement Day, I was told men who were better off than us did this everyday. And as my faithful leader, if I were not to die a sudden death, then I would do as my orders were.  
  
I then heard the crunching sound of ball bearings upon ruptured metal. I looked around again to see three 101's heading in my direction. Their metal hardened body's would send shivers through any man or woman's body. A cruel likeness to our own body's, placed in a mocking attire that only the machine's could have. They were designed to be the son of man, but in a nasty overturn they had become the enemy of man. I stood up and fired a shot into the head of one of the machines. The laser shattered his skull apart, leaving the other two to turn around and pin point my location. I leaped in the air to avoid a huge explosion. I looked around to see the crater where the burnt out car had been. It was time to run. I kept on going avoiding shots and explosions from the two 101's now chasing me. I waited behind, hiding in the rumble of what used to be a working city. A place where human's ruled the environment. Sometimes I wondered what it was like to live in a world before Judgement Day. I had grown up only knowing of war. Only knowing that I would spend the rest of my life fighting for peace. But one thing still haunted my mind. That it was more likely I would die before I see a quiet world.  
  
The two 101's walked past, their scanning red eyes missing me completely. I then jumped out and fired a laser into the waist of one sending him flying in two. The other turned around in time and grazed my ribs with his laser gun. This sent a massive explosion tearing my body apart. As I landed on the floor I could see my broken body and skin laying next to me. My scream bellowed out upon the vast land. Until I heard the ball bearing crunching sound of the Terminator's metal feet. A killing machine made to perfection, his cold empty mind full of cheap A.I. slowing wondering how to finish me off. I took out the metal case and emptied it of its contents. Slowly I reached my head over and set the end of the brown sausage shaped thing. I then placed one end in my mouth and breathed in. This sent the relaxing feeling that Connor had promised. I then looked up in hope. I saw the dark red eyes of the Terminator before it picked me up by the head in one hand, and then the other hand crushed me into dust. I had not been long on this earth, but had done my part in the fight against the machines. Yes I had failed, but I had not died in vain.  
  
Later that day fellow fighters would find my tattered remains and learn of the secret message I had. This message would then be passed onto John Connor and result in the saving of five thousand of the best human troop's lives. 


End file.
